


Shoes

by My_Beating_Hart



Series: A Mahariel's Travels [18]
Category: Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Bonding, Fluff, Gen, M/M, Shoes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-07
Updated: 2014-12-07
Packaged: 2018-02-28 12:38:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,157
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2732876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/My_Beating_Hart/pseuds/My_Beating_Hart
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Theron and Leliana bond over the unlikeliest things sometimes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shoes

Zevran had lain awake for some minutes, listening to the sounds of hushed chatter outside. It was Theron and Leliana’s turn for watch duty again, and the two often spent the time exchanging gossip like a pair of Antivan fishwives rather than actually being on watch.

Occasionally the gossip was about the resident Antivan, something Zevran knew due to the way they grew quiet when he passed by or stifled giggles whenever he was nearby. He shifted slightly in the furs, debating on going out there now or waiting and listening to see if he could pick out just what they were talking about tonight. He supposed that he needed to get up anyway…

Zevran reluctantly pushed the warm furs off himself, grimacing at the cool night air as he pulled cotton trousers and an undershirt on - also strapping a dagger belt around his waist out of habit. If it had just been Theron out there he wouldn’t have bothered with the shirt at the very least, the Antivan mused wistfully.

When he left the tent, he saw the backs of the other two party members as they sat close to the fire to the left of the tent’s entrance. They were leaning together, almost conspiratorily, and barely noticed Zevran as he slipped away from the light of the campfire to go and find somewhere private to tend to his business.

When the former Crow returned to the camp, he wasn’t too surprised to see that they were both still talking. Curiosity winning over his tiredness, he wandered closer until he was standing a short distance away, able to hear their conversation.

“One can’t mingle with nobility with bad shoes, you see.” The redhead was explaining. “Orlais is very fashionable, almost ridiculously so. But the shoes! Living with those ridiculous trends was worth it for the shoes." She sighed. Zevran tilted his head in confusion. He wasn’t sure if he was happy of the fact they weren’t talking about his prowess in the bedroom again or not.

"Why, were they ridiculous shoes?" Theron asked. Leliana nodded.

"Sometimes." She added. "About ten years ago all the ladies went mad for shoes with soles as large - and heavy - as bricks. But it isn't always that silly. When I left, the fashion was delicate shoes with embellishments - a ribbon, or embroidery. In soft colours, of course; it was spring." The bard turned her head slightly, looking down, perhaps at the fire.

"That sounds so lovely." Theron sighed, much to the Antivan's surprise. He hadn't thought the ranger would have liked shoes, of all things. Leather boots, such as the ones they both wore, or the Antivan ones Zevran had told him about a while ago, he could understand. Not... Frilly, completely feminine shoes. He couldn't be serious. Was he agreeing with Leliana for simplicity's sake, to make the conversation flow easier, or was he perhaps having an unusually mean joke at the redhead's expense?

"I had my eye on a pair before I left Orlais - pale blue with amber beads on the toe." Leliana admitted, looking back up at Theron. "The shoes made in Orlais were exquisite. Not at all like these fur lined leather things you have here. Just look at them."

"So ugly and shapeless."

Now that surprised Zevran a little more. Theron had worn such 'ugly and shapeless' leather boots all his life; the Antivan actually felt mildly insulted. How could the ranger be serious? He must have been joking. Zevran raised an eyebrow, resting his weight on one leg as he ignored the night's chill for a little longer, wanting to hear the ending of the conversation

Leliana was nodding sagely in agreement, the firelight playing and dancing over her equally red hair.

"They're sturdy..." She commented, looking down at her own feet. "But sometimes you just want to have pretty feet. I could talk about shoes all night." The bard sighed, stretching.

Sensing that the conversation was at an end, Zevran slipped back into his and Theron's tent, weighing up the merits of going back to sleep against waiting up for Theron to finish his watch duty and confront him about his odd taste in footwear.

 

An hour later, the Dalish elf ducked into his tent to leave Alistair and Morrigan in bleary-eyed, uncomfortable silence. He was surprised to see Zevran lying propped up on his elbows, patiently waiting for him.

"I feel betrayed." Zevran announced conversationally, but lightheartedly as he watched Theron shrug his weapons off and set them down near the bedroll. The ranger flushed, but started to take his boots off regardless.

He'd heard the blond wandering around in the background while he and Leliana had talked, had felt his gaze prickling on his back.

"Really?" 

"I never knew one of the Dalish would be interested in the inane footwear fashions of another country." The Antivan continued, golden eyes not leaving the ranger as he undressed.

"I... Have a thing for beauty." The ranger mumbled as he pulled his gloves off and flexed his cold fingers.

"I'm not surprised." The former Crow smirked, gesturing down to himself as an example; he'd long since slung his shirt and trousers into a corner. It had really only been for Leliana's sake and the amusingly finicky attitude many Fereldens had that he'd even bothered to put them on in the first place.

"But shoes? _Women's_ shoes?" He asked.

Theron's nimble fingers paused in loosening a stiff buckle under his left pauldron.

"Okay, I might have just agreed so she didn't start asking me irritating questions instead."

"But you always gossip with her. Some days, the two of you are worse than a pair of fishwives."

Theron sighed, shrugging off his armour and halfheartedly lying it out next to his boots and gloves before he went over to the bedroll and curled up against Zevran. He reached down to begin lightly trailing his fingers along some of the former assassin's tattoos, but paused.

"Want to know my favourite shoes?" The Dalish elf asked, and he sat up in response to Zevran’s curious look. He got to his feet and rummaged round in his pack at the other end of the tent - the blond enjoyed the view of him crouched over and with his back to him immensely. He wasn’t prepared when Theron turned round with a pair of very new-looking leather boots in hand. Zevran’s expression of shock, in fact, was priceless.

Theron smiled, and returned to the bedroll. He let Zevran take the boots, watching him examine them closely and run his fingers over the soft leather and intricate stitching.

“Antivan.” The black-haired man said, leaning forwards to kiss Zevran gently on the cheek. “Naturally.”

“You certainly have an eye for shoes, then.” Zevran replied after a few minutes, at a loss of what else to say in the face of such an unexpected gift.

“No, I said have an eye for beautiful things, _lath_.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> Fifty points to whoever correctly guesses where Zevran's tattoos are.  
> But forreal, I jokingly decided to have my in-game Theron be a diehard shoe fan when Leliana started talking about it. Also, something short and maybe a little bad because I just emotionally ruined myself by finally writing perhaps the darkest fic in this series.
> 
> I'm finding it more and more difficult not to just give in and make a character that Solas can romance. He's growing on me and refuses to stop.


End file.
